


Too late

by chaos_monkey



Category: The Expanse (TV), The Expanse Series - James S. A. Corey
Genre: Desperation, Drunk Miller, Gen, Kink Discovery, Masturbation, Piss without Plot, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Watersports, Wetting, or maybe more like, public urination
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-22
Updated: 2020-02-22
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:34:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22838677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chaos_monkey/pseuds/chaos_monkey
Summary: Miller's drunk and has an unfortunate accident. Except it's maybe not so unfortunate after all.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 34





	Too late

**Author's Note:**

> (Final warning in case the tags weren't clear, this fic is about piss. If that's not your thing you should probably, like... click something else.)

"Fine, alright! I'm _goin',_ jeez." 

Staggering slightly, Miller yanked his arm out of the bouncer's grip and ignored the last dirty look the man shot him. Irritably straightening his crumpled shirt and giving his spinning head a shake to try and clear it— it didn't work— he looked around for a minute and then started off in the direction of home. 

He was pretty sure this was the direction of home. 

Yeah. Pretty sure. Mostly. 

Miller made it a few minutes away before a heavy, demanding pressure in the general vicinity of his lower abdomen let him know he really should've hit the head before leaving the bar. Stumbling to a halt, he turned around and had already started heading back before the annoying thought meandered through his brain that he'd probably have to buy another drink before they'd let him go for a piss, which was a problem because… 

Right. Because he was broke. Which was why they'd kicked him out in the first place. 

Miller frowned, grumbled, and turned around again. Whatever. He could hold it till he got home. 

He only made it a few more minutes before realizing he really couldn't. 

Fuck. 

Wincing at the deeply uncomfortable and increasingly urgent twinges of need cramping in his midsection, he stopped again and tried to get his bearings, glaring around at the station signage that should have been there but wasn't. This was ridiculous. He knew Ceres like the back of his own damn hand, so why the hell couldn't he figure out where— 

Someone walking the other way gave him a funny look, and Miller shut up, abruptly realizing he'd been bouncing in place and muttering to himself. 

Okay. Okay, there should be a maintenance corridor hatch… that way. 

Hunching over a little to try and ease the heavy, burning pressure of his overfull bladder, Miller spun around— only stumbling a little, really— and hurried back down the corridor. Straight through the first intersection; then a right into a smaller side corridor… then a left… and another left. 

…Or was it a right? 

"Come on… come _on,_ where the fuck are you," Miller muttered, feeling a panicked flush prickling its way up his chest and neck to his face. The twinges in his lower belly had turned into stabbing pains instead and he whimpered quietly, shifting from foot to foot and tugging at his waistband where it was cutting painfully into his stomach. At least this particular dingy hallway was deserted at the moment, and Miller took the opportunity to grab himself through his pants, squeezing his cock in an almost frantic bid to hold on just a little longer. 

It helped, slightly, but he could swear he felt liquid sloshing back and forth inside him with every single step as he practically limped back the way he'd came and took the right-hand turn instead. Another pathetic whimper escaping his lips, Miller rounded the curve in the hallway hoping _desperately_ that he'd gone the right way, because he was absolutely certain he could feel hot piss creeping slowly down the length of his cock— and he could not _believe_ how much his bladder ached, he didn't think he'd ever had to pee this badly in his _life—_

"Oh, fucking _finally._ " 

Miller thought he might cry with relief at the sight of the maintenance hatch just up ahead. Heaving a deep sigh, he finally relaxed a little. Almost there; just a few steps further and he could slip out of view, let go of all that awful pressure and— 

Frowning again, Miller staggered sideways into the wall without really noticing as he stared down at himself, blinking in confusion. 

Why the hell did his crotch suddenly feel so warm, and what was that soft hissing sound— 

Something hot and wet ran down the inside of his thigh, first a trickle and then a gush, and his brain finally made the connections. Three steps away from his goal, _three fucking steps,_ and he was pissing himself _now?_

"Shit, no, what the _hell—_ " Miller swore, leaning against the wall while he fumbled clumsily with the fly of his already soaked pants. He couldn't quite stop the flow, with the end result that he pissed all over his hands while wrestling his dick free from wet, clinging fabric; but after another hissed curse, he finally managed to pull himself out and let go properly. 

Slumping bonelessly back against the wall, Miller let out a long, guttural moan of sheer relief as the unsteady stream turned into an absolute rushing torrent that left his knees weak and his head spinning. Even more than they already had been, anyway. 

Pissing had never felt so _incredibly_ fucking _good,_ he noted distantly. So good it left him panting for breath, his head tilting back and mouth falling open in another moan while he blissfully emptied himself all over the floor of the corridor. So good he was actually stiffening up a little in his hand. Just from _pissing._

He only realized he'd closed his eyes when they flew open again a few seconds later at the sound of voices, laughter, and mocking jeers from down the hallway. 

Right. Shit. 

He hadn't actually made it to the maintenance corridor, so he was still in a public hallway; and he hadn't even turned to face the wall, so he was leaning back against it instead with his half-hard dick out while he pissed into the middle of the floor in full view of anyone who turned the corner. 

Well, screw it. 

Miller flipped them off without looking over and kept pissing. He seriously doubted he could have stopped now even if he tried— and he couldn't be bothered _to_ try, staring down at the growing mess with a sort of blurry, detached fascination. He was pretty sure he'd never pissed this hard before. Ever. It really did feel absolutely fucking _fantastic;_ and still wasn't showing any signs of slowing, spraying out of him at full force, nearly hitting the other wall before splashing down into the widening puddle that was creeping closer and closer to the toes of his boots with every passing second. 

After what felt like an eternity, the flood finally, gradually started to die down, leaving him lightheaded and strangely floaty— almost like he'd just had an actual orgasm, weirdly enough. Miller didn't even bother holding himself for the rest of it, letting go of his still-pissing dick and absentmindedly wiping his wet hands on a dry part of his pants while he finished. His skin was prickling with delicious little shivers after the release from all that pressure as his stream finally dwindled slowly down to an intermittent trickle. With a few pushes that made his semi-hard cock jump, he forced out the last few spurts with a grunt, watching lazily as they splattered into the massive puddle at his feet. 

The very last dribbles of piss were still leaking from his dick when Miller tucked himself away with another groan, finally remembering he should get moving before anyone _else_ came by and saw him like this. Particularly not someone who might recognize him. 

He grimaced at the damp, already-itchy fabric rubbing over the sensitive head of his thickened cock as he did up his pants again, but couldn't resist giving himself a squeeze and a tug or three through his wet clothes anyway, stifling a small grunt of pleasure at his own touch. Shoving himself upright, Miller headed for the hole he called home, ignoring the errant trickles of heat that dripped down his thighs to seep slowly into his half-soaked pants while he walked. 

Didn't really make much of a difference at this point anyway, Miller reflected ruefully, trying to ignore the stares and occasional snicker as he re-entered the main corridors of Ceres Station. Even with the dark colour of the material, the wet patch covering the front of his pants _and_ running partway down his legs was probably blatantly obvious to everyone who saw him. But with his drenched underwear clinging to and rubbing against his oversensitized dick with every movement he made, even the humiliation of having to walk home after _wetting_ himself apparently wasn't enough to kill that persistent fucking boner. 

If anything, it seemed to actually be making it _worse._ Miller just hoped nobody was noticing that particular part of his… situation. 

By the time he made it to his own door after a handful of wrong turns along the way, Miller was still stumbling drunk, as well as cold, annoyed, embarrassed, and horny as all fuck. He dropped everything that wasn't filthy and soaked with piss in a heap just inside his front door— including his boots, fortunately; then immediately headed to the shower where he cranked up the hot water and stepped under the steaming spray without stopping to take his pants off. 

Closing his eyes, Miller rested his forehead against the wall, fumbled his dick out for the second time that night, and started desperately pumping his aching cock with a shivering groan. It only took a minute or two at most before he crested with a shudder and a bitten-off curse, panting for breath while his cock throbbed in his tight grip and spurted streaks of come up the wall of the shower. 

Suddenly exhausted, as though all his energy had just spilled out of his dick as well, Miller worked his fist up and down a few more times to coax the very last pulses of come from his twitching cock before reaching over to shut the water off again. 

He nearly killed himself slipping on the floor while trying to wriggle out of his now completely drenched pants, but finally managed it without serious injury. Naked and still dripping wet from the shower, he skipped the drying-off part entirely in favour of staggering to bed and burrowing between the sheets, where he tried to avoid thinking about the slightly unsettling fact that he'd apparently just gotten off on pissing himself. In public. 

…He'd deal with it tomorrow. 


End file.
